


It's Not a Date, It's Destiny

by SuziCalmDown



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Archimedes the Owl - Freeform, Camelot, Fate & Destiny, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Human Kilgharrah, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not a Manservant Merlin, Well managed but still evident jealousy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-08 02:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13448973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuziCalmDown/pseuds/SuziCalmDown
Summary: Merlin has to become Arthur's friend to reach his destiny. Unfortunately (or perhaps very fortunately) his attempts keep coming off as advances of a different nature.P.S. I made gender and sexuality in general no big deal for this fic, despite the era, because I could :)





	1. Chapter 1

"Congratulations, Merlin! Your training is complete," Master Kilgharrah boomed even though it was only the two of them in the dank underground lair.

Merlin’s grin overtook him as his master placed his claw-like hands—really the man seemed more reptile than human—on Merlin’s shoulders and gave him a slightly painful squeeze.

"What happens now?" Merlin asked eagerly. After five years of intensive and extremely risky magic study, this was the moment when it would all become worth it. This was when Merlin would finally know why the elusive master had summoned him all the way from his farm village in Ealdor at the age of 15 to study magic in Camelot, a place where sorcery was banned upon threat of death.

Master Kilgharrah buried his arms back inside the many folds of his black cloak, angling away from Merlin slightly to gaze importantly into the abyssal drop that ate up most of the floor. Really, it made certain training practices quite difficult when a neck-breaking fall was one misstep away, though it did provide impressive acoustics for his master’s declarations. For example, when Master Kilgharrah’s next bellow rang out Merlin was almost too distracted by the might of it to fully process the horror of the words.

"Now you will fulfill your destiny. You will guide and protect the Once and Future King: Prince Arthur Pendragon."

 

 

* * *

"And then he dove headfirst into the pit, like he usually does when he knows I’m going to argue with him," Merlin huffed to his uncle Gaius as he helped scrub the leech tank. Merlin acted as apprentice to Gaius, the physician to the royal family. It provided Merlin with an excuse to walk the halls of the castle when sneaking to Kilgharrah's lair, a place to rest his head at night, and a confidant in his uncle Gaius who was a retired magic user himself.

"He didn’t give you any instructions?" Gaius asked, up to his elbows in leech-water.

Merlin groaned, "No, he was as helpfully unhelpful as ever."

Gaius pulled his arms out of the cloudy liquid and rested his chin on his fist, his bushy grey eyebrows bunched in contemplation. Merlin reached over and yanked a stray leech from Gaius’s forearm.

"Guide and protect…" Gaius hummed, "You’ll have to win his respect if you are to guide him and you’ll have to be around him constantly if you are to protect him."

Merlin stared into the sharp, angry mouth of the leech in his hands. It was as dark and miserable as his future. "Prince Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future Prat, is my destiny." The leech squirmed in what Merlin assumed was sympathetic dismay.

"Put that back and stop committing treason by insulting the prince," Gaius reprimanded before his expression melted into one of gentle encouragement. "You’ll figure it out, Merlin. You always do."

Merlin sighed, "Thank you, uncle Gaius."

"But don’t think that fulfilling your destiny gets you out of doing your chores."

Merlin laughed and got back to scrubbing, "Don’t even joke about that. I’d miss these nasty suckers too much."

 

 

* * *

The clanging of sword practice drew Merlin forward into the courtyard. The tentative plan he had formed the night before was to simply befriend Arthur. A friend could guide through advice and would be around enough to provide secret protection. A friendship with Arthur wasn’t a completely ridiculous idea. Technically they lived under the same roof, as Gaius’s chambers were in the castle so he could better aid the King’s ward, the Lady Morgana, with her night terrors. Housemates--castle-mates?--ought to be friends, Merlin thought.

That sunny thought lost a bit of its shine when Arthur cast his gaze Merlin’s way and afforded him the most judgmental once-over Merlin had ever endured. Arthur’s disapproval was almost a tangible thing, raking over his unkempt black hair, tattered red neckerchief, and cheap work boots. Merlin felt his confidence drain out his feet as he dragged himself over to one of the benches that overlooked the courtyard. When Merlin glanced back up, Arthur had moved his attention back to his practicing knights.

Maybe he shouldn’t have chosen to start off their soon to be blossoming friendship by interrupting Arthur’s work, Merlin thought. He could have gotten one of the knights he was on good terms with, Gwaine or Elyan or maybe Elena, to invite him to one of the tavern outings they have with Arthur. Merlin considered sneaking back inside the castle for a reattempt later, but stopped himself. This was his destiny, apparently, which meant the fates were on his side. It should not be too difficult to befriend Arthur.

The knights practiced for the rest of the morning. Arthur barely let them stop to breathe between sessions of sword training and hand-to-hand combat. Merlin wasn’t bored though, sitting on his bench and soaking it all in. This was so different than his sessions with Master Kilgharrah, alternating between literature study, meditation, potions, and spell-work. Merlin’s training didn’t make him look like a storybook hero like Arthur, sword held at the ready, golden hair pushed from his eyes, muscles tensed. Merlin came back to Gaius’s every night with ink on his fingers from copying passages from ancient texts, his eyes drooping with exhaustion from pouring all his energy into casting, and his knees stiff from so much time spent with his legs crossed. Merlin resembled less of a hero and more of an over-worked librarian.

Once practice finally finished Merlin gathered his bearings and tried not to act too awkward and out of place as he approached Arthur. Arthur was drinking from his canteen as one of his knights, Sir Gwaine chatted with him. Their conversation became clearer as Merlin got closer.

"Just saying, mate, because I care about you, yeah? If you don’t use it soon, it’s likely to fall off."

"Gwaine," Arthur warned around a final swallow of water, noticing Merlin nearing.

"What? It’s a health issue, that’s all I’m saying," Gwaine continued, his lopsided smile managing to be simultaneously mischievous, caring, and dashing. Gwaine did most things with a hint of dashing thrown in. “I’d offer up my services, mate to mate, if all you need is a good-

"Marvin, wasn’t it?" Arthur exclaimed, voice strangled, eyes a bit wild as they swung between Merlin and Gwaine.

"Merlin!" Gwaine greeting once he noticed him. Merlin tried to smile naturally, but the situation was far too painful for that.

"Hello Gwaine. Good practice today," Merlin said stiltedly, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Usually he was relaxed around Gwaine whenever they happened upon each other in the pub or on the street. Usually they didn’t have a severe-faced prince between them.

Gwaine reached out to swipe a quick caress over Merlin’s elbow, flirtatious but also what Merlin read as a silent encouragement for him to unclench a bit. "Come to watch me, did you?"

"Actually I…" Merlin made an aborted gesture in Arthur’s direction that he immediately regretted with his entire being as both Arthur and Gwaine’s eyebrows shot up.

"Well in that case, I’ll just leave you two to it," Gwaine gave a suggestive wink at neither one of them in particular before strolling away, a sway in his hips that was, somehow, quite dashing.

That left Merlin alone with Arthur, which was what he had wanted, but it still inexplicably made his upper lip sweat. "Right, so," Merlin began.

"We’ve never spoken before," Arthur interrupted, taking another swig from his canteen, eyeing Merlin.

"No, but—"

"Yet you just intruded on my entire training," Arthur said, pouring some water into his hand and splashing it over his face, still a bit rosy from exertion.

"It wasn’t the entire—"

"And then you chased Gwaine away."

"I didn’t—"

"I don’t know what to think of you, Marvin," Arthur said while treating Merlin to another especially judgmental once-over.

"Well if you let me finish one thought, maybe I could explain," Merlin snapped. He spared half a second to panic about the repercussions of snapping at Prince Arthur of Camelot. His irritation won out and he remained stern. "And my name is Merlin."

"Like the bird? That’s silly."

Merlin breathed in sharply and closed his eyes. If all that time of meditation had taught him anything, it was how to refocus his energy. Starting a friendly conversation wasn’t working, he needed another way to connect with Arthur. Nothing was coming to mind, until—"It’s Biscuit Day!" Merlin announced suddenly, surprising them both.

Arthur’s face dropped in confusion, "Biscuit Day?"

"The day Cook throws out the uneaten biscuits from the week. If you catch her before the toss, they’re free," Merlin’s enthusiasm diminished as he tracked Arthur’s change in expression, "but, seeing as you’re the prince, free old biscuits probably aren’t the most enticing."

"Probably not," Arthur agreed with a patronizing nod.

"Right."

"Was that all you wanted to talk to me about? Biscuit Day?" Arthur asked. Merlin could almost hear the ‘you idiot’ tagged on the end.

Merlin sighed. This was getting nowhere, and Arthur’s patience was obviously almost used up. Maybe he just had to be more straightforward. "I just thought, since we’re castle-mates, we ought to be friends."

"Castle-mates?" Arthur’s face twisted in confusion, but Merlin plowed on.

"Forget the biscuits. How about tossing rocks off the roof? Or finding those tiny red spiders in the vegetable gardens?"

"These are the things you do for fun?"

"Or something else! I don’t know. Whatever you want… sire," Merlin was swallowing so much of his pride he was likely to choke.

Arthur glanced around, at a loss for several moments. He massaged his forehead a bit with one of his hands before muttering, "Look, it’s a… nice thought. But I’m rather busy, you know. So just, ah, enjoy your biscuits."

With a forced smile and a consolatory pat on Merlin’s arm, Arthur was walking back into the castle, unguided and unprotected by Merlin. Merlin tilted his head up to the sky and gave a great big shrug, hoping the fates would get his message.

 

 

* * *

"Master Kilgharrah! Master, where are you?" Merlin shouting into the shadowy pit of his elusive master’s secret magic training room. There was no response.

"I need a hint!" He called out, knowing it was useless. "Look, I really need you not to do that thing you do where you abandon me so that I’m forced to come up with the solution on my own and then, somehow, get me to thank you for not helping because it made me grow in my wizardom, or some rubbish. It isn’t working, okay? Arthur wants me as far away from him as possible."

Aside from the periodic dripping of condensation along the stone walls, there was silence. "I’m not going to thank you for this!" Merlin bellowed, extra upset that he couldn’t get his voice to ring out the way his master could in the cavernous space.

So that was it, Merlin thought. Arthur didn’t have the help of the fates or Master Kilgharrah. All Arthur had was Merlin. "It’ll be legendarily tragic," Merlin declared, mostly to himself. How could it be anything else?

 

 

* * *

After a few ignored greetings and unreturned smiles, Merlin revisited his tavern plan. Gwaine was more than happy to bring Merlin along for a pint with some of the knights and Arthur, for which Merlin was eternally grateful. He was less than grateful for the entirely indelicate introduction Gwaine gave him.

"This here is Merlin. You all might know him from his fine work as Gaius’s apprentice, or perhaps from his fine ass," Gwaine made a twirling motion with his finger, as if expecting Merlin to turn around and present said ass. When all Gwaine received from Merlin was an indignant frown, he continued, "Merlin, you know Elena and Lancelot. Have you met Percival or Leon over there? And of course you know Arthur from your rendezvous after training the other day."

Arthur didn’t meet Merlin’s eyes, but his grimace showed acknowledgement. Merlin took it as permission to sit next to him at the cramped wooden table. As Gwaine went to get a round of drinks, Merlin searched for a good conversation-starter, but his mind was utterly blank. He was normally good at making friends; not with Arthur, though. Merlin couldn’t relax around Arthur. It was probably the epically-failing-his-destiny thing that was putting him on edge.

Gwaine returned and passed Merlin a mug with a warm smile before regaling the entire table with stories from his time before knighthood when he traveled from town to town getting into brawls and falling into beds. That, and the multiple consecutive mugs of ale set in front of him over the evening, were what finally brought a topic of conversation out of Merlin.

He spoke lowly to Arthur as to not draw attention, "The other day, before I interrupted, I overheard you and Gwaine talking."

Arthur stiffened but finally made eye contact, his lips thinning into an unamused line.

Merlin continued, "He made it seem like it had been a while for you… sexually."

Arthur’s pinched expression grew darker, his brilliant blue eyes piercing. Though Merlin knew he should probably listen to the implied ‘Shut up, Merlin’, he was out of ideas and at least he had Arthur’s attention.

"I could help you with that," Merlin smiled encouragingly, though Arthur’s shocked expression was anything but encouraging.

"Merlin," Arthur began, his voice oddly gentle, "I appreciate you being so direct, but I’m sorry, I’m not interested in you in that way."

It was Merlin’s turn to be shocked. He felt like his face had caught on fire and he could hardly stutter out his defense, "No n-no, that wasn’t – I meant help by singing your praises to someone you like or by introducing you to a friend of mine or – I didn’t mean for it to seem like... I’m just trying to be your friend. Really."

Arthur looked a bit lightheaded before he burst into laughter. "Merlin! You practically begged me to spend the afternoon with you, constantly tried to get my attention, negotiated your way into this outing, and then you offer to help me ‘sexually’, and just," Arthur choked back another laugh, "This isn’t how you make all your friends, is it?"

Merlin groaned theatrically into his arms as he dropped his head to the table, which only set Arthur off again. Merlin liked Arthur’s laugh. It wasn’t nearly as restrained and proper as he had would have expected. It made Merlin smile despite his embarrassment.

"Oy! What’s so funny over there?" Leon asked from across the table. Apparently, they had attracted the attention of the knights.

Arthur turned to them all with a positively evil grin. Merlin blamed his steady consumption of whatever Gwaine had last handed him for the way he scrambled to block Arthur’s next words with his hands. Arthur, the one trained in physical combat, wrestled Merlin’s arms back to his sides with minimal effort.

"Gwaine," Arthur called out as Merlin tried to twist his wrists out of Arthur’s grasp, "You’re friends with Merlin, right? Has he ever offered to help you out sexually? In a purely platonic way, of course."

"I should be so lucky!" Gwaine responded without hesitation, raising a pitcher in toast. Arthur chuckled, releasing Merlin while speaking to Gwaine, "Well, you’re just as bad as him. No, you’re worse."

Arthur turned back to Merlin as he was finishing off the last of his drink in an almost desperate manner.

"You’re an odd one, Merlin. Those ears to say the least," Arthur giggled, then caught himself and eyed his own drink like he was betrayed by how much of it was gone. Merlin giggled too, feeling warm from the inside out. His magic stirred inside him pleasantly whenever Arthur looked at him directly, which he kept doing. "Very odd," Arthur finished his thought, "but maybe I could use some odd in my life."

 

 

* * *

After the night at the tavern, to Merlin’s surprise and delight, they did become friends. Master Kilgharrah still had not appeared to Merlin with any further instructions so, as long as he kept ahead of his chores, Merlin was able to spend much of his time with Arthur. Sometimes he waited for Arthur to finish his training with his knights and they would walk through the marketplace or the castle’s orchard. Once Arthur had attempted to teach Merlin how to use a sword, which Merlin suspected was mostly for his own amusement.

Merlin was eventually able to convince Arthur to take advantage of Biscuit Day. He was not impressed by it, and Merlin could understand why when the next day Arthur brought fresh biscuits from the castle kitchens for them both.

"Thith ith," Merlin swallowed, "so much better than the stale ones."

Arthur grinned and resettled himself against the cherry tree they were resting against. It was late in the day, the low sun casting orange and pink hues over them both.

"I have something for you too!" Merlin announced, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out an amulet looped into the best chain he could find. He had cast several protective charms over it the night before, ones specifically tailored to Arthur.

Arthur took the amulet and gave Merlin an amused once-over, "Giving me jewelry?" he joked. Their rocky start has become a shared joke.

"I promise I don’t have any," Merlin waggled his eyebrows, " _expectations_. I just want you to have it."

Arthur slowly traced the dragon symbol of the pendant with his finger. It was one of Master Kilgharrah’s marks that Merlin had learned to use to lock in his magic. It looked a lot like the Pendragon crest; Merlin hoped it was passing.

"Thank you," Arthur said in one of his tranquil moments, the ones where he wasn’t teasing Merlin about something. Those moments were becoming more frequent.

There was stillness for a while. Merlin listened to Arthur’s steady breathing and it was peaceful. Maybe this was what destiny felt like, Merlin thought.

Arthur gently broke the silence, "When I said I wasn’t interested in you in that way, what I meant was, I’m not interested in a relationship of that sort right now. With anyone."

"Arthur, that’s–"

_MERLIN_

Merlin jolted at Master Kilgharrah’s booming voice in his head.

"Merlin?"

_MERLIN MEET ME IN THE LAIR NOW_

" That’s fine, is what I was going to say," Merlin assured, trying not to shout to compensate for the thunderous voice only he could hear.

_MERLIN IT IS A MATTER OF GRAVE IMPORTANCE_

" Are you alright? I apologize, I should not have brought this up. It was inappropriate."

"No, Arthur, it’s fine. I just—"

_MERLIN_

" I have to go. I’m sorry. It’s—"

_MERLIN!_

" —a matter of grave importance. I guess." Merlin rambled, stumbling to his feet and out of the orchard.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin blew the door to his uncle Gaius’s chambers open like a violent storm, his expression thunderous.

“Merlin, why do you have an owl on your shoulder?” Gaius asked, scrutinizing the ball of brown and copper feathers with eyebrows that rivaled his own.

“Gaius, meet Archimedes. Archimedes, Gaius.” Merlin flapped a hand at the owl, earning himself a peck.

Archimedes straightened and said, in a pinched yet very human voice, “How do you do?”

Gaius blinked. “Merlin, why do you have a talking owl on your shoulder?”

“A gift from Master Kilgharrah,” Merlin said darkly.

Archimedes fluffed up his chest feathers in a proud and regal manner. “I am an expert in legend and lore. I am here to provide Emrys with all the direction he needs to achieve his destiny. Starting with defeating the witch.”

“He keeps calling me Emrys. I’ve told him a thousand times, it’s _Merlin_. I don’t know why Master Kilgharrah couldn’t just _wait_ to stick me with him. Tomorrow would have been a perfectly grand day to get an owl.”

Gaius hummed, “Some direction might be just what you need. What is this about a witch?”

“Yes, we should strategize,” Archimedes hopped off Merlin’s shoulder onto Gaius’s work table, “Some arsenic in her nightly medicine should do the trick. Though that could be traced back to you all fairly easily.”

Gaius snatched up the sleeping draught he was working on, “This is for the Lady Morgana.”

“Precisely.”

Merlin poked Archimedes in the side of the head, “You can’t poison the Lady Morgana.”

“The threat she poses is far too great for her to live,” Archimedes said matter-of-factly, “And I will not be poisoning anyone. I am merely here to offer my insight. Your decisions are still yours—I will not interfere. The poison was merely an informed suggestion.”

Gaius sat down heavily at his workbench, “Are you saying the Lady Morgana is a sorceress?”

“Gaius, why are you listening to the owl? He’s obviously just some sort of weird punishment Master Kilgharrah is inflicting on me for, I don’t know, yelling into his void too much,” Merlin reasoned, sitting down as well.

Gaius shook his head, “It makes too much sense. The nightmares she has been having… I had considered, well, _dreaded_ the possibility that there was something to them. She has all the symptoms of an awakened seer,” He put his face in his work-worn hands for a moment before emerging again, “She’s King Uther’s ward. She can’t have magic.”

“She does. And though she does not yet understand her power, she will grow to be a ferocious adversary,” Archimedes chimed in.

“I have known her since she was a child,” Gaius said, turning sad eyes to Merlin.

“I’m not murdering her,” Merlin promised.

Archimedes flapped his wings in aggravation, “Emrys, it is your destiny to—”

“I’ll find another way to keep Arthur safe.”

Merlin hoped he would soon feel as confident as he sounded.

 

* * *

 

Merlin wasn’t close with Morgana. Being King Uther’s ward made her unapproachable. Merlin’s friend Gwen was her personal handmaiden. Gwen sometimes told Merlin small tidbits about Morgana, like that she was considerate to Gwen and the other maids, that she had many admirers but never humored any of them, that she was the perfect lady yet still snuck away to learn some sword fighting. She was beautiful, mysterious, and impressive.

If Merlin were to become a killer, he certainly wouldn’t start with her.

Merlin volunteered to take Gaius’s sleeping draught to Morgana, making a show of leaving any potential poisons behind to make sure Archimedes got the message. He would deal with the homicidal owl situation later.

Knocking gently on Morgana’s door, Merlin called out, “My Lady, I am Gaius’s apprentice, Merlin, here with your medicine.”

“You may enter,” came the reply, and Merlin wondered if that was the first time Morgana had ever spoken directly to him before.

Merlin opened the door hesitantly and there she was, chastely hidden in heavy nightwear and sitting primly at her bedside desk. She had hair as dark as Merlin’s and skin even paler. Though she regarded him with polite attentiveness, Merlin could see the tiredness in her eyes. She looked more exhausted than Merlin did on his busiest days.

Merlin approached slowly, waiting for any sign of uneasiness from her. He knew it was unusual for him to visit a lady late in the evening, even as the physician’s apprentice. Gaius was a trusted friend to the royal family and had practically raised Morgana. Merlin was a near stranger. Though, Merlin reminded himself, they shared something. They were both connected to magic, and so they were connected to each other.

“Gaius wanted me to ask how your status is,” Merlin said as he set down the vial on Morgana’s desk. “Have you been sleeping any better?”

Morgana regarded him carefully, but looked away when she answered. “Not particularly. The last few nights have been… especially difficult.”

Merlin nodded. This close he could see the dark circles below her eyes highlighted by the candlelight. If he hadn’t had his mother’s support, Merlin wondered, would this have been him? Would he have also been so tormented and alone? Would he have become dangerous, as Archimedes predicted Morgana would?

Merlin made a decision he prayed Arthur wouldn’t pay for.

“Gaius also wanted me to ask, have there been any other symptoms?”

Morgana’s eyes returned to his sharply. “What kind of symptoms does he mean?”

Merlin breathed, “Anything out of the ordinary. Anything… out of your control?”

Morgana’s faced clouded over with fear. Merlin recognized that fear. It was what visited him every night he slept in Camelot.

“My lady,” Merlin spoke softly, sensing the fragility of the moment, “Gaius sent me because I understand what you are going through. There is nothing wrong with you. We are here for you and you are going to be fine.”

Morgana’s lip trembled, “Gaius sent you?” Her words were thick with unshed tears.

“He’s my uncle. I have lived in Camelot for five years as a person with magic. You can keep your life here, my lady. I can help you control your abilities.”

Morgana shook her head swiftly and stood, facing away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should leave. I must rest.”

Merlin swallowed his protest. He turned to the candle on her desk and whispered a simple enchantment. The flame flickered before jumping off the wick as fluttering butterfly wings. With another coaxing whisper, the butterfly was sent to hover in front of Morgana. Merlin heard her gasp and watched as she raised her hands slowly, reaching out to the dancing flames.

“Careful,” Merlin warned, “It can still burn you.”

When Morgana regarded him again, tears freely falling, all that shown on her face was relief.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Merlin was pecked awake by an impatient Archimedes, insisting Merlin explain his plans. A summoned wind and a slammed door, all while Merlin stayed horizontal, banished Archimedes from the room. Merlin stared at the ceiling, wishing he had plans worth explaining.

Yesterday he had made a fool of himself in front of Arthur, acquired a supremely disapproving talking owl, and outed himself as a magic user to the Lady Morgana then promised to teach her sorcery. Merlin missed the days before he completed his training with Master Kilgharrah, before any talk of destiny. Now the pressure of it all pressed in on him.

Gaius took pity on Merlin that morning by giving him only the barest amount of chores for the day. Merlin spent his spare time pouring over books on magic control, especially for seers. Archimedes, who kept finding ways back into his room no matter how many times Merlin threw him out, had deduced what Merlin was doing and would not stop squawking about it. “You can’t HELP the witch master her magic! She will use it against you! You are bringing down Camelot, all of Albion!”

Merlin finally had enough, “The only one who is going to get me killed is you. A talking owl? How about we just paint ‘secret sorcerer’ over my door right now?”

“I assure you no one is within earshot.”

“You better stay here, then. I have somewhere else to be.”

Merlin hid his texts under a couple loose floorboards in his room and searched for his boots. He had only found a few simple control techniques to try with Morgana, but if he stayed there any longer Archimedes was getting sealed in a jar.

 

* * *

 

Merlin was stopped on his way to Morgana’s chambers by a hand on his shoulder. When his magic responded with a feeling of swirling excitement instead of defense, Merlin knew who it was even before turning around.

“Arthur!”

Arthur gave Merlin an uncertain smile, tilting his head to the side as he regarded him. “Merlin, how are you? You left so quickly last night.”

“Oh, right, that.” Merlin wished he had come up with a worthy excuse before this exact moment. One would think spending years as a magic user in Camelot would have made him a better liar.

Arthur gave his shoulder a squeeze before letting go. His expression shifting from open and concerned to something more reserved. “Well you look well enough. I trust everything worked out.”

“Yes, it—”

“Merlin, there you are!” Morgana interrupted before Merin could finish whatever pathetic explanation he was going to give. Morgana was in a glistening dark green dress. It was the type of dress she wore on a weekday and yet more lavish than anything most would wear in their lifetimes. Merlin was momentarily dizzy from getting so much attention from such high-class people.

“You two know each other?” Arthur asked, looking wrong-footed.

“Merlin is my tutor,” Morgana responded brightly. Merlin choked on his own spit. “He’s teaching me some of the medicinal basics.”

“You’re interested in physician’s work?” Arthur’s skepticism showed plainly on his face. He crossed his arms.

Merlin finally recovered enough to speak, “We just started. The lessons. The school lessons.”

“That’s right,” Morgana’s smile was much more believable than Merlin’s sweating, “He only just agreed last night.”

“Last night.” Arthur’s normally expressive face closed off at that. It made Merlin want to reach out and… do what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Touch Arthur’s arm, maybe. His arm looked like it needed to be touched.

“We should actually get that first lesson started. If you will excuse us?” Morgana regarded Arthur.

Arthur nodded, his eyes not fully connecting with either of them. “Yes, of course. I should be getting to a meeting.” He started turning away even before finishing his goodbye. Though Merlin had been looking for Morgana in the first place, all he wanted to do in that instant was chase after Arthur.

 

* * *

 

Morgana’s first lesson in sorcery had gone well, in Merlin’s opinion. They had tried a few concentration techniques and Morgana even managed to summon a flash of a vision. She had said the vision was too jumbled to understand, but she looked so excited to finally have even a shred of control. Merlin left her room with a smile, doing his best to ignore the shrill warning voice in his head.

Merlin stopped in the vegetable gardens to take a moment to clear his head. He had thought he was sure about his decision to help Morgana instead of making an enemy out of her, but the twisting in his stomach said otherwise. He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been sure about anything since he finished his magic training.

He wasn’t even sure about his eyesight when there, crouching in the dirt of the garden, was someone who looked a lot like a certain prince. Arthur’s knees and fingers were stained dark from the soil and his hair was beginning to stick to the sweat of his brow. He had a small basket next to him that he was filling with strawberries. Merlin smiled when one strawberry made it to Arthur’s mouth instead of the basket.

Merlin almost fell over when Arthur started humming to himself. It was a slow, soothing song, something Merlin recognized as something his mother would sing to him as a child when he had trouble falling asleep. The tension in Merlin’s shoulders loosened. There was one thing he was sure about; he was sure about Arthur.

“It’s been forever since I heard that song,” Merlin said.

Arthur valiantly tried to hide his surprise, which only made Merlin smile.

“Stealing strawberries from the royal gardens. You understand I will have to report this to Cook,” Merlin teased.

Arthur chuckled, “I understand she provides you with crusty old scraps, Merlin, but haven’t I earned your loyalties yet?”

Merlin sobered, “You have. My loyalty is yours.”

Arthur met his gaze for an extended moment. Merlin felt ensnared by Arthur’s attention for that breath. Arthur cleared his throat and presented the basket, “I picked these for you.”

“Really?” Merlin took the strawberries.

“Yes. It’s the best time of year for them,” Arthur stepped closer making Merlin’s heart beat that much harder in his chest, “I hope you will accept them as a token of my intentions.”

Merlin couldn’t feel what his face was doing, “Your intentions?”

Arthur nodded, his jaw clenched in determination, “My intention to court you. I have always refrained from such things because, well, I suppose I never wanted to put myself in a vulnerable position. But today I realized that, even though it’s uncertain, I want this.”

Arthur’s arm had slipped around Merlin’s back. He was warm and he smelled like a sunny day. That was the extent of what Merlin could process.

“Merlin, a response would be… most appreciated,” Arthur said, his hold on Merlin going rigid.

Merlin crashed his lips against Arthur’s, tasting strawberries on him, but only for a moment. “I want to do the right thing,” he told Arthur honestly, breathing heavy, “I have no idea what that is.”

Arthur plucked a strawberry from Merlin’s basket and pushed it into Merlin’s mouth. “I will be gone on a hunting trip for the next few days. You can tell me your decision after that.”

Merlin was left in the gardens with a strawberry dangling from his mouth.


End file.
